


right kind of wrong

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Sibling Incest, this is not pro-Father Blackwood, we have already covered that I’m going to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: If there is a silver lining to Hilda moving to the little bedroom down the hall, it’s that this bed will finally bear witness to decent sex.





	right kind of wrong

**Author's Note:**

> This story was really an excuse to talk shit about Father Blackwood. He is problematic af and Zelda deserves better, dammit. 
> 
> Comments are everything, so please let me know what you think!

If there is a silver lining to Hilda moving to the little bedroom down the hall, it’s that this bed will finally bear witness to decent sex. No — better than decent. Fucking magnificent, life-altering sex. 

Zelda will never tell her sister that she fucked Faustus Blackwood in this very room shortly before Hilda took up residence. It’s exactly the sort of thing she would have told her a lifetime ago, before they began this depraved, desperate dance together. It’s the sort of thing Zelda would have said to throw in her face, to hurt her, to inspire gut-wrenching jealousy.

She has been making an effort to avoid doing just that. It turns out that cruelty is not much of an aphrodisiac where her younger sister is concerned. 

There’s also an element of shame that Zelda would prefer to avoid; she is not proud of her dalliance with Father Blackwood, and she doesn’t particularly want to face her sister’s pitying expression over Zelda’s lonely, misguided decision making. It had served a purpose, had scratched an itch, and Zelda has no need to go down that road ever again — not now that she has what she really wants. 

What she wants is now kissing her way down between Zelda’s splayed thighs, and she shivers happily. 

Hilda encourages her sister to drape a leg over her shoulder as she settles between Zelda’s thighs, her nose nuzzling the milky pale flesh. Zelda whimpers, watching that flaxen yellow hair between her legs, and forgets Faustus and his angry lust and his lack of interest in making Zelda come. Hilda’s interest more than makes up for it. 

At the first swipe of Hilda’s tongue against the wet seam of her cunt, Zelda threads her fingers through all that beautiful blonde hair. Hilda hums, the vibration tickling against her sex, and it’s already so much better than anything that has ever happened in this room. 

“Sweet Lucifer, you taste amazing,” Hilda mutters, and Zelda flushes with pleasure. Hilda fastens her lips to Zelda’s clitoris, sucking hard enough to draw a strangled cry from the older witch’s mouth. 

It occurs to Zelda to wonder if Faustus has ever bothered to go down on a woman; she sincerely doubts it. He has little regard for women and even less for their pleasure. Hilda would go down on Zelda for hours if she let her (and she has — one of only two times Zelda has blacked out during sex). 

Zelda digs her heel into her sister’s back as she arches her hips against her mouth. For a witch with limited sexual experience, Hilda is exceptional at oral sex, and Zelda takes great delight in telling her so at inopportune times. (Her favorite is at breakfast, standing side by side at the counter. While Ambrose and Sabrina laugh over the eggs and toast Hilda has prepared, Zelda takes great pleasure in leaning in close enough to whisper just what she wants Hilda’s mouth to do to her at the first feasible opportunity. She revels in watching her sister flush pink all over.)

Hilda licks her tongue at her entrance, teasing the taut ring of flesh before stroking the flat of her tongue up, up, up to her clit, where she scrapes her teeth against the hard, sensitive peak. “Can’t get enough,” Hilda mumbles, and her fingers dig into Zelda’s hips as she cants her own pelvis down against the mattress. 

When Hilda begins to flick her tongue in fast, tight circles, two fingers press hard inside, and Zelda cries out, wanton and hungry for more. She didn’t sound like this with Faustus; with him, her moans had been equal parts pain and pleasure, whereas her sister draws out only unbridled lust. Only Hilda knows her body this well, knows what she needs to come over and over and over again. Faustus had been an unfortunate aberration. She pulls at all that blonde hair, and Hilda increases the speed of her fingers, fucking her sister as if her life depends on it. 

Hilda abruptly pulls away, a glint in her eyes as she settles back against her pillow. Zelda cries out at the loss of her mouth and fingers. “Come here,” the younger witch says, her pouty lips drawn into a grin.

Zelda blinks, but she heeds her direction and straddles the younger woman. 

Hilda’s hands tug at her hips, wet fingers pulling her up her body until Zelda is straddling her head. They’ve never done this before, and Zelda has half a mind to thank whichever author described this position in Hilda’s beloved romance novels, but then the blonde is making out with her cunt and she can’t think of anything at all. 

Zelda grabs the headboard. She had done this with Faustus, had braced herself on the antique frame as the cat o’ nine tails bit into the skin of her back. The pain had been delicious, but this is better. Hilda grasps at Zelda’s ass, holding her hips in place as she works her tongue just the way Zelda likes it. She looks down, watching the way Hilda’s closed eyelids flutter as she loses herself. The flash of bright blue eye shadow and the mussed tousle of blonde hair splayed against the pillow anchors her to the present. 

He was wrong, and Hilda is so very right. As she rides her sister’s face, it occurs to her that she should prefer that man’s touch to her own flesh and blood’s, but nothing will ever feel so right as this does. 

“Satan, yes...” 

Zelda opens her eyes and looks down at the woman fucking her with her tongue, and she discovers Hilda’s blue eyes staring up at her. She can see the smile in her eyes, can feel the curl of Hilda’s grin against her clit. Zelda smiles down at her, and then she’s coming hard against her sister’s mouth, and she can’t breathe because the sheer intensity of her pleasure rivals anything she has felt in the last hundred years. 

With shaky legs, Zelda pulls herself up, careful to avoid smothering her sister with her cunt (she has promised not to murder Hilda again, even unintentionally). She lies down beside her, rearranging their bodies until they are both on their sides, Hilda’s back flush against Zelda’s front. 

Zelda nips at Hilda’s shoulder as she palms one perfect, heavy breast. Hilda’s whimper is like an unholy choir in her ears — it’s a startling contrast to the growls and grunts of Father Blackwood. Zelda knows what she prefers and she needs more of it, needs those sweet moans to echo off the walls. She reaches between Hilda’s legs, slipping effortlessly between wet folds until she finds the sensitive bundle of nerves that has her sister panting and desperate. 

Zelda will spare no more thoughts for Faustus Blackwood. He is not a good man — no one in such a position of authority as he should ever prey upon the spiritually vulnerable, and Zelda will never allow herself to be taken advantage of again, even in moments of weakness and self-doubt.

She will instead whisper Hilda’s name like a prayer and cling to her like salvation.


End file.
